


my regrets follow you to the grave

by mozarteel



Series: the asphodel killer [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Murder, Violence, why did I write this, ygoshipolympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozarteel/pseuds/mozarteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This person is dangerous, Shun believes.</p>
<p>(There's a new killer in town. Kurosaki Shun is the police investigator assigned to catch them.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dark crimson rose

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin, please, PLEASE take note about the tags. I'm trying my best to warn people about the contents of this fic, but if I miss anything that needs to be tagged, please let me know. 
> 
> That said, this is the first time I've written something like this, and while it was a great and fun experience for me, I know the subject matter isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please tread with caution.
> 
> Written for [ygoshipolympics](http://ygoshipolympics.dreamwidth.org/) [Prompt: “Thrilling, isn’t it?” + Challenge: Games].

Sakaki Yuuya is dangerous.

Dangerous, from the way his quirking lips form a sultry smile for Shun, to the way his eyes glint – scanning Shun’s body from top to bottom – and deciding that he _likes_ what he sees. His movements, when he places down the glass of alcohol he’s holding on a table and moves towards Shun, are as graceful as a large feline stalking its prey, and just as deadly.

Yes, Sakaki Yuuya is _very_ dangerous.

Shun waits for him anyway, playing with the rim of his empty glass, the alcohol long gone inside his system.

“Tell me, _beautiful_ ,” Sakaki Yuuya _purrs_ in greeting, sliding in to take a seat on the empty stool next to Shun’s in front of the open bar. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?”

Shun smiles a little, showing that he approves of this attention. “Maybe I’m looking for someone like you to come around,” he replies silkily.

Sakaki grins, pleased with the flirty response.

This is how Kurosaki Shun first meets Sakaki Yuuya – in a nightclub filled with drunk strangers and heavy bass music playing from the speakers. They’re both a bit drunk, and they’re both looking for someone to spend the night with.

Stop. Rewind.

This isn’t how Kurosaki Shun first meets Sakaki Yuuya.

The first time – the _real_ first time – he meets Sakaki Yuuya is when the man is a photograph clipped inside a thick folder located in Shun’s office in the Criminal Investigation Bureau, the words ‘ _Suspect: Maiami Serial Killing/Murder Case_ ’ written in Shun’s scratchy handwriting under Sakaki’s smiling face. The first time he meets Sakaki Yuuya, he’s grieving from his best friend’s death at the hands of said killer.

_Hello, Sakaki Yuuya_ , Shun thinks, as Sakaki leans close – smelling of sweat and faint sandalwood cologne – and offers to buy him another drink. _It’s very nice to finally meet you in person_.

 

* * *

 

The problem is, they don’t have anything on the killer.

No evidence, no witness, not a single thing. One of the only things they manage to _deduce_ from the crime scenes is the fact that he’s male, due to the weight and size of some of his victims, and the easiness in which he handles their corpses. It’s as if he’s a spectre, or a grim reaper, moving in and out of his victim’s lives, only pausing to end their existence and slipping away quietly, unnoticed by all.

The public calls him the Asphodel Killer – for his trademark style of taking his victim's’ internal organs and leaving flowers in their hollowed-out torso – which is just tacky, in Shun’s opinion. The killer’s never even left asphodel flowers. They just call him that because of the flower’s association with death and the underworld in Greek mythology. It probably originates from some reporter trying to be dramatic, but the fact is, the public apparently likes the name, so now they’re stuck with it.

The killer doesn’t just pick random flowers either. There’s meaning to them, related to the victims. White chrysanthemums – a grieving wife whose husband died in a car crash a few months ago. Yellow roses – a jealous ex-boyfriend. Orange lilies – a lady who is planning revenge on her previous employer for firing her. Shun groans, stretching a bit in his seat, as he reads the notes about their latest murder case – 56 year old male with cactus flowers ( _cactus flowers_ , what the hell) placed where his stomach had been – and the symbolism of said flower, and resigns himself to the fact that this victim is possibly not-so-innocent after all.

Yuuto, who’s returning back to his desk from wherever he was, frowns at him. “Still reading those case files?” Shun scowls at the case file in frustration, and snaps it shut.

“Not anymore.” He turns his attention to his partner-slash-best friend, who’s currently storing the documents scattered on his desk and packing away his things.

“Leaving work early today?” Shun asks, curious, because Yuuto is usually one of the last people to leave the office.

“No, I’m meeting someone for dinner.” Yuuto replies, vague. Shun raises an eyebrow.

“Date?”

Yuuto shifts. “Not really. Going to a bookstore.”

Shun looks at him critically. “ _Dinner_ at a _bookstore_?” He’s not one to judge, especially not about Yuuto’s life, but _still_.

“No, Shun,” Yuuto replies slowly, as if Shun is being particularly dense on purpose. (He isn’t.) “I’m going to a bookstore to pick him up, and then we’re both going out for dinner. At a restaurant.”

Shun hums, intrigued despite himself. “You sure it’s not a date? Because that sounds like a date to me.”

Yuuto huffs. Stands up and grabs his coat, glaring at Shun the entire time. Shun can tell that he’s not genuinely upset about the teasing, though.

“See you later,” Yuuto greets, leaving his desk, coat tucked under his arm. “Don’t stay up too late!” he calls from the entrance of the office. Shun smirks a bit, thinking, _you’re such a mom sometimes_.

It’s the last time Shun will ever see him, because he never returns to the office, or to his house. It’s the last time Shun sees Yuuto alive, period.

 

* * *

 

There’s no body.

That’s probably the worst part, in Shun’s opinion. That Yuuto doesn’t even get the chance for a funeral, for any acknowledgment from their co-workers, friends, or family. Just a bouquet of flowers delivered to his desk during the night, his bloodied ID – it’s his own blood, the forensics department confirms later – tucked neatly among the blooms. Underneath the bouquet, a single black box, tied with red strings.

Inside, placed delicately on top of a bed of dark crimson roses, is a human heart.

(Yuuto doesn’t have any family, a lone orphan who showed up in Shun’s class one day when they were kids. In many ways, Shun and Ruri _are_ his family.)

Shun paces in Chief Superintendent Akaba Reiji’s office. The man – his superior – has left his office to handle the panic that’s spreading all across the building as the news about the macabre delivery reaches people. Yet all he can think about is Ruri’s horror-filled eyes when he informs her about the news, Yuuto’s voice saying _see you later_ to him, the last time they'd seen each other.

He’s staring blankly at a random picture on the wall when Reiji returns, a brown folder in hand and a woman with long purple hair tied up in a ponytail and the world’s most impressively deadpan expression - forensic examiner, Shun notices from her name tag - in tow.

“Kurosaki,” Reiji begins, moving into his seat. “You might want to sit down for this.”

Shun doesn’t sit down. “Tell me,” he states, almost pleads, voice tight from worry and lack of sleep.

Reiji pauses, and for the first time since Shun starts working with him, looks tongue-tied. He’s silent, apparently deep in thought, but he’s also avoiding Shun’s eyes.

The forensic examiner – _Serena_ , her name tag declares – decides to speak up. “You want to tell him, or should I?” That seems to snap Reiji out of his thoughts, because he finally focuses on Shun, and in a formal voice says, “My condolence, Kurosaki. He was a good man.”

Shun breathes, blinks back tears and grief, and does not break down in from of his superior and a forensic examiner. “Thank you for informing me,” he replies, face blank and voice calm, even though all he wants to do is scream. Bows, leaves Reiji’s office, closes the door behind him.

He manages to walk exactly ten steps away from the closing door before he complies with the urge to punch something, _anything_ , in replacement for their absent killer. The wall seems like a good option.

Doesn’t stop until Serena steps out of the office herself and touches his arm. Watches as she clicks her tongue at his bleeding fists, drags him away to the medical department to bandage his wounds, tells him Reiji has given him the rest of the day off.

He goes back home to Ruri, who, upon seeing his face, pulls him into a tight hug.

Somehow, she already knows.

 

* * *

 

The flower bouquet has been sent to the forensic labs for examination, Serena tells him a few days later, when she bumps into him in the elevators. He asks for a copy of the case file from Reiji, and the man hands one to him without much protest, possibly hoping that Shun will find closure from looking at the notes about the crime. (He won’t.)

Hyacinths and white tulips, purple blossoms stark against pure white. Its a lovely bouquet, even with the blood from the ID smudging some of the petals red.

Its meaning, though, confounds just about everyone involved in the case, Shun included.

_Apology. Asking for forgiveness._

It’s different than the Asphodel Killer’s usual MO. Too different, some argue, and everyone shivers and clenches their teeth in frustration. They don’t need another criminal getting inspired by this killer now. But the fact remains that Yuuto _was_ an investigator assigned for the Maiami Serial Killings/Murder Case. In addition, its the _only_ case he’s currently working on, and all signs point to their killer being the one responsible for his death, which is raising another kind of concern among the investigators.

The killer has never done something like this before. Never kills a police investigator working on the case before, never shows any signs of _regret_ before – and it's leaving the entire department in an uproar. Theories are thrown wildly around, some more absurd than others, like the one who suggests Yuuto was their killer’s co-conspirator, or even his _lover_ \- “Lover’s spat gone wrong, maybe? It happens,” the officer who doesn’t realise that Shun is five seconds away from punching his face says – which is just, _no_. Shun gets called for questioning, and can’t answer their inquiries of “Did you know that your partner was conducting his very own investigation about the killings?” and “Are you aware that the deceased has been in contact with a certain bookstore owner these past few months?”

The last question catches his attention.

He tries to ask about the identity of the bookstore owner, knowing that it’s important, but they refuse to give it to him. Pulls out regulations about how he’s too close to the latest victim – Shun bristles, the very least they can do is say Yuuto’s name – and removes him from the case, just like that. He did get a name though, from a particularly skittish officer, who – intimidated by Shun’s dead-eyed stare – accidentally lets it slip during their interview.

Sakaki Yuuya, the aforementioned bookstore owner. One quick search into Sakaki’s records reveals a round face, wide eyes, a bright smile. Everything about him screams innocence. And yet –

Recalls Yuuto telling him that he was going to meet someone on the day he disappears (dies). Recalls him saying something about a _bookstore_.

Shun swallows up his _no_ and _it’s not possible_ and _why did he kill you, what did you find out_ , and gets to work.

 

* * *

 

Tracking Sakaki Yuuya down is easier than he thinks it should be.

The man has a website for his bookstore, where it lists several books that are on sale in his shop, offers help for customers looking to order books online, and other details not related to Shun’s investigation, but most importantly, an address.

The right thing to do is to tell his superiors about his last conversation with Yuuto, where he mentions visiting a bookstore and having dinner with someone, but Shun finds himself reluctant to do that. Because the police will investigate Sakaki, and there won’t be any proof or evidence connecting him to the murders, and they will dismiss Shun as just a grief-stricken friend, and (if he’s the killer) Sakaki will remain free to escape at any time. Shun doesn’t – he doesn’t want that. Yuuto and the killer’s other victims don’t deserve that.

Although, Shun thinks back to some of the killer’s previous victims. The man with cactus flowers for a stomach – a recurring sex offender, according to his criminal records. The lady stuffed with orange lilies, who’s planning to murder her ex-employer just for petty revenge. Perhaps some of his victims _do_ deserve that. Perhaps that’s why the killer leaves an apology for Yuuto, because he doesn’t intend to kill him, but he has to. Because Yuuto somehow found him, because he’s protecting his own identity.

But the fact remains, Shun’s best friend is dead because of that killer. And he’s not content with simply sitting aside and wait for the hands of justice to crawl up to the killer.

Kurosaki Shun is going to find out on his own whether Sakaki Yuuya is the Asphodel Killer, and if he is, Shun will make him pay.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks into observing (stalking) Sakaki Yuuya, and Shun is almost ready to call it quits.

If the man is their killer, he’s exceedingly careful about it. No peculiar behaviours, no bizarre purchases – some of the flowers the killer use aren’t local, how does he get his hands on them – that may raise concern, not a single hint that links him with people who end up as the Asphodel Killer’s victims at all. Sakaki is, for all purposes, an upstanding citizen.

Shun does notice something interesting, though. Every weekend, Sakaki Yuuya goes to a particular nightclub with his friends – a woman who somehow resembles Ruri and a large, heavyset man – to hang out. He ponders, plans, rolls this information inside his mind.

If Shun wants to investigate Sakaki Yuuya, he has to get close to the other man. And luckily, he knows just how to do it. A single chance encounter where he leaves a lasting impression on Sakaki should do the trick.

 

* * *

 

Sakaki Yuuya, Shun realises as they leave the nightclub together, is either a really great actor or a complete lightweight. If he’s the former, Shun has to compliment his acting skills.

Because he is _wasted_ , swaying heavily on his feet and bumping into every single object – cars, trees, a wall – standing in their path. He leans heavily against Shun for support, right arm hooked along Shun’s shoulders as he rambles about nothing in particular, eyes never leaving Shun’s face the entire time.

“You’re really,” Sakaki starts, pauses, and continues examining Shun’s features. He’s very close, breath heavy with the smell of alcohol as it hits Shun in the face. “Really.”

Shun huffs as Sakaki suddenly trips into his own feet in the middle of the walkway and stumbles in his steps, grabs Sakaki’s body tighter to balance him. Honestly, he only shows up in the nightclub for the sole purpose of trying to attract Sakaki’s attention, but this is _ridiculous_. What does he expect, that Sakaki will just randomly confess or something? “Really...?” He asks, if only to keep the conversation going.

Sakaki is silent for a long time. “Come to my place,” he finally replies, which is not only unrelated to their previous bits of conversation, but also unexpected. While Shun is planning on ways to attract Sakaki’s attention – he grimaces to himself when he remembers his attempts at flirtation back in the nightclub – he doesn’t expect for it to go so well. Also -

Did he just get an offer to have drunk sex? With a man – _the_ man he suspects of being a serial killer at that?

Does it matter? After all, this is a great way to insert himself into Sakaki Yuuya’s life.

Shun realise distantly that there’s a big possibility that he’s more than a bit drunk himself. Otherwise, he’s certain he wouldn’t consider this. It’s too close, too dangerous; and while Shun is a firm believer of the motto that one should seek thrills in life, is he willing to go this far?

He knows he’s treading dangerous ground. He wants, needs to get close to Sakaki for investigative purposes. _But what if he’s not the killer_ , a tiny voice inside his mind whispers. If Reiji finds out that Shun’s been following a harmless citizen – Sakaki’s been cleared from being a potential suspect for the killer – he’ll be suspended, fired, or even prosecuted. And yet, there’s another part of him, a gut feeling, that screams _he’s suspicious, you know he is_.

Should he say yes, or no?

Shun leans into Sakaki, smiles seductively – or what he thinks is seductive, he probably just looks like a maniac – and says, “Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

He wakes up to white ceiling, a soft bed, and a calico cat sitting on his stomach. Blinks at the cat, and _oh my god his head is killing him_.

“Good morning,” a pleasant voice greets him from somewhere across the room, sounding amused.

Shun pushes the cat away and slowly, carefully rises his body up to a sitting position on the bed. Tries his best to fight off the wave of nausea that hits him when he moves, and why did he ever think drinking was a good idea, the hangover isn’t worth it.

“Here,” the voice supplies, moving closer to Shun. He sees a pairs of hands offering him a bottle of Ibuprofen and a glass of water. He takes it, grateful. Swallows one pill and gulps down the drink, the water soothing his parched throat.

Finally looks at his surroundings to find Sakaki Yuuya staring at him, concern written all over his face.

_Oh_ , he remembers. _Oh, last night happened_.

“Feeling better?” Sakaki inquires, and why does he sound so chipper, isn’t he drunker than Shun last night?

He winces at another stab of pain in his head, and asks Sakaki exactly that. “Oh,” Sakaki blinks, looking sheepish. “Um, I don’t really get hangovers.” 

The universe truly isn't fair, Shun thinks.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Sakaki asks, curious, and oh yeah, they never did get to the introduction part last night, did they?

“Kurosaki Shun,” he offers lamely, sitting on a (relative) stranger’s bed, still with a killer headache and probably looking like roadkill.

Sakaki smiles, showing his pearly-white teeth. _A morning person_ , Shun’s mind supplies, and he groans internally. “Nice to finally know your name, Shun. I’m Yuuya, Sakaki Yuuya.”

Shun doesn’t reply with _I already know your name_. Grunts something that resembles a greeting as he moves to sit at the corner of Yuuya’s bed.

“Oh, and before you ask, nothing happened last night.” Yuuya adds, ready for Shun’s next question. “I think you carried me inside and passed out right next to me on the bed. We certainly didn’t take our clothes off.” He glances pointedly at Shun’s outfit, pants crumpled from sleep and shirt reeking of alcohol. “There was some kissing, though,” he adds, apologetic and a bit embarrassed, which implies that it’s not just ‘some’ kissing.

Shun wants to ask Yuuya what the hell he’s apologizing for – he doesn’t mind if they did make out with each other while drunk, it’s not as if Shun refuses him last night, and Yuuya is a fairly attractive person – when the scent of pancakes hits him. He perks up, stomach growling.

Yuuya notices his reaction and grins. “If you’re up to it,” he says, offering a hand to Shun. “I made us breakfast.”

Sakaki Yuuya might possibly be a serial killer, but food is food, and Shun is _starving_.

He takes Yuuya’s hand, allows the man to guide him into his kitchen. Mutters, “Where’s the food.” (He might still be slightly drunk.) Ignores the way Yuuya’s eyes shines, delighted – or amused, more likely – at his behaviour.

It turns out Sakaki Yuuya makes superb coffee. Shun decides that getting close to Yuuya isn’t so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

Shun leaves Yuuya’s home around noon and gets lunch at a small café near the corner of his house, even though Yuuya invites him to stay over for lunch. He’s feeling awkward, to say the least.

Sakaki Yuuya is a surprisingly pleasant person to have a conversation with. Shun honestly can’t connect him with the image of their serial killer – cruel and mocking, utterly cold – inside his mind. He sighs to himself, thinking that perhaps some reconsideration is required in his initial opinion about Sakaki. _But some psychopaths can be seen as being charming and trustworthy_ , his brain offers, recalling a seminar about criminal behaviours he attended a few years past.

He sighs again in frustration, placing Sakaki Yuuya aside in a corner of his mind for the moment to be pondered about later. Digs around in his pockets for some changes to pay his meal, and pauses when his fingers brush against something flat in his coat pocket. Pays for his meal and pulls the _thing_ out of his pocket to examine it.

A folded piece of paper. Generic, nothing fancy about it. He opens it up.

A phone number, written in round, neat letters. Underneath it, a single message.

_I don’t do this often, and we could’ve start in a better way, but I had so much fun talking with you. Maybe we can hang out again sometimes? Call me. :)_

The words feel sincere and awfully endearing. Shun can almost imagine Yuuya standing in front of him, offering his number nervously, sweet smile on his face.

So Shun smiles despite himself, despite his original intention when he first approaches Sakaki Yuuya, despite his still-there suspicions. Slips the piece of paper into his wallet, remembering painkillers and kind eyes and the taste of coffee lingering on Yuuya’s lips as he pulls Shun close and kisses him goodbye, in front of his house.

Perhaps he’ll call, later.

 

* * *

 

Yuuya is charming.

Not in a fake way, either.

He’s someone whose presence Shun honestly enjoy in his life, and Shun knows that he’s an antisocial bastard – Ruri’s word, not his – most of the time. He’s kind, but he also doesn’t take any of Shun’s bullshit, never hesitates to call him out if he's being a pain in the ass. He cares, too, and that’s what makes Shun’s heart skips and soars whenever Yuuya invites him out to eat ( _you’re too skinny, Shun!_ ) or to hang out ( _it’s a date, okay?_ ) or just call him to check on him.

(Yuuya’s thumb running over the dark circles under Shun’s eyes, gentle. “I wish they’d catch that killer already,” he admits softly. “I wish you can rest peacefully at night.”)

He thinks about Yuuto. About what he’d say if he was still here. Probably something about how _he’s good for you_ or _you smile a lot more when he’s around_ or _don’t you think you deserve happiness too, Shun?_ Yuuto’s cheesy, in his own way.

Perhaps he’s wrong about Sakaki Yuuya. Perhaps, in his anger and grief, he’d latched on to an innocent man who has no relation with the case, or with Yuuto’s death. Perhaps even his observation in the nightclub – where Yuuya had looked so _dangerous_ – was a hoax, his vision impaired by alcohol and an all-consuming need to blame _someone_.

He’s not foolish, he knows that many criminals can be exceedingly charming, able to manipulate the people around them into believing their innocence. But looking into Yuuya’s smiling face, he doesn’t have it in him to mistrust this kind person who’d somehow fallen perfectly into his life.

Perhaps it’s time to put his ghosts to rest, and move on.


	2. red spider lily

“You’re obsessed with this killer,” Reiji drops the bomb on him one day, while they’re standing in front of a water cooler, of all things.

“And you’re not?” Shun shoots back, because he’s seen it. The way Reiji taps his fingers on his chin, deep in thought, whenever he looks at the wall in his office, filled with their killer’s victims’ photographs and notes about the murders. The way Reiji clenches his fist – a small movement, barely noticeable – whenever they see a new crime scene. The way he pushes and prods his subordinates to _work better, anything can help us with this case, don’t miss a single thing_ , which frustrates many people working with him (Shun included).

Reiji narrows his eyes dangerously. “I’m obsessed,” he emphasizes, “with _capturing_ our serial killer.”

Shun glares at him, but doesn’t reply or deny his accusations. After all, Reiji is right. Yuuya may not be the Asphodel Killer, but that means the real killer is still out there, and sooner or later, Shun is going to catch him.

 

* * *

 

Shun stumbles out from the NPA headquarters after not sleeping for 48 hours – courtesy of Reiji and his cool stare and his _I need a summary of the T.C. kidnapping case yesterday, Kurosaki_ but really translates to _you need to start thinking about other things that’s not related to this serial killer, Kurosaki_ – only to be greeted with a heavy downpour cascading from the skies. _Great_ , he groans internally, of course it rains the day he forgets to bring his umbrella. Contemplating whether making a short run to his car under the heavy rain will be worth the wet clothes and potential fever later, he spots something (someone) moving into his view from the sidelines.

Yuuya grins, standing under the rain, holding an umbrella with his left hand.

“Need some help?” He cheekily asks, tilting his head to the left to acknowledge the umbrella. Shun stares, mind unable to comprehend the sight he’s seeing.

Fact #1: It’s raining cats and dogs outside.

Fact #2: Sakaki Yuuya greets him in front of his office building while holding an umbrella.

Conclusion: Sakaki Yuuya waited for who knows how many hours in the rain for him just so he won’t get soaked?

Well, Shun could just _ask_ him. “What,” he begins, after finding his voice, “are you doing here?” Yuuya’s grins widens even further at the shock in his voice. “Waiting for you, of course,” Yuuya replies, shrugging.

Shun must look like a gaping goldfish right now, because Yuuya seems to take pity on him after a while. “You forgot our lunch date today,” he supplies, gentle. “And you’re not answering your phone. I just wanted to check on you, to see if you’re okay. And,” to Shun’s continuously growing pile of confusion, Yuuya _blushes_ , “I don’t know your address, so I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out from work.”

He pauses, letting Shun absorb and process these information. “I was really worried, though,” he continues. “I didn’t know if you’re just extra busy or if you’re sick and is passed out somewhere in your home.”

Shun feels a sudden rush of loving affection for this man, who drives (walks?) to his office in this terrible weather just to check on him. Steps under the umbrella with Yuuya, inching close to prevent himself from getting too soaked. Together, they walk briskly towards Shun’s car.

Shun is about to open the door to the driver’s seat when Yuuya’s hand stops him. “Let me take you home,” he offers, shy and sweet. "I mean, to my place! I know you have a car, but it's a storm right now, and you don’t actually think you can drive looking like that, do you?” Shun must look even worse than he feels, if Yuuya is saying that to him.

_I’ve driven in worse conditions_ , he thinks to himself, but relents at the doe-eyed look on Yuuya’s face. Hands Yuuya his car keys, and gets into the passenger seat.

“Take me home, Sakaki,” he grumbles. Yuuya’s smile lights up the entire car, warms Shun all over, even through the heavy rainstorm.

 

* * *

 

Shun’s phone rings on Sunday, waking him up from a pleasant dream about Yuuya and his warm hands.

“Kurosaki.” It’s Reiji, voice quiet. Shun tenses, recognizes that tone of voice. “There’s another one.”

He rolls over to his side, checking the time on the alarm clock sitting innocently on his bedside table. 7:36 AM. Resists the urge to sigh, and replies, “Text me the place, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Technically, he’s been removed from the ongoing investigations. Technically, he’s not supposed to get involved with the Asphodel Killer anymore. Technically, Reiji shouldn’t have told him about the new case. But the fact remains that he’s one of the best detectives working in the Criminal Investigation Bureau, and this is a high-profile case requiring the use of good, experienced investigators, so Reiji calls him, and Shun goes to the crime scene.

 

* * *

 

It’s bad.

Really bad, if the looks on several police officers’ faces – rookies, Shun assumes, or the ones who’ve never seen a violent crime before – who are walking past his car when he arrives at the crime scene are any indications. Pale face, shaking hands, wild eyes glancing back towards the scene. Shun taps his fingers against the steering wheel, once, twice, and gets out of his vehicle.

Reiji’s waiting for him with an unreadable look on his face. Leads him into a clearing inside the city park, to the victim.

A woman. Mid-thirties, stout. Possibly rich, judging from the designer dress she’s wearing and the expensive-looking gold necklace glinting in the sunlight, spattered with blood, around her neck.

Shun pauses in his steps, scrutinizes the crime scene. There’s something’s different, yet familiar, about this scene. Something about it that brings back memories of purple hyacinths and white tulips, bloodied heart in a black box.

Yellow carnations in her hollow torso, and yet -

_The bouquet_ , Shun notices. The killer has placed a bouquet of flowers in her hands, like an offering, and he only did that once so far. Shun walks around the scene, trying to figure it out, this mystery on his hands, its solution on the tip of his fingers. Why a bouquet? What’s so special about this victim, that the killer feels the need to give her a bouquet? The last time he gives one of his victims a bouquet –

_Special_. Shun stops in his tracks. Maybe the bouquets aren’t meant for his victims after all.

_No, they’re not for his victims_ , he realises. They’re for someone meaningful to him, someone _special_. Someone like Yuuto, a police investigator, who managed to find him.

So who does this bouquet belong to? Who’s the intended recipient?

Red camellias – their killer is in love with someone. Daffodils for respect, honeysuckles for affection. And placed in the centre, almost hidden by the other flowers –

A single red spider lily.

Shun’s brain whirrs, recalling flashes of a memory, and he _knows_.

 

* * *

 

_I want to show you something_ , Yuuya says to him, the morning after that heavy rainstorm, a few days ago. Shun hums his agreement while chewing his breakfast. His body feels relaxed after a much-needed sleep, mind content with sitting in Yuuya’ kitchen, basking in Yuuya’s warm affection.

It’s a nice day. Yuuya takes him out to the backyard.

A small garden, filled with flowers of all kinds. Rose bushes under the windowsill, their vines slowly creeping on the wall of Yuuya’s house. Hydrangeas planted in two parallel lines, forming a lovely pathway. A mixture of sweet fragrances hang in the air around them.

Shun’s attention is caught by a carpet of _red_ surrounding an old persimmon tree. _That’s a strange choice of flowers to plant_ , he comments, nodding at the carpet of red – the bunch of blooming flowers.

_Red spider lilies_ , Yuuya mentions, crouching down to remove some weeds sprouting from the ground. Shun yawns, almost on the verge of sleep, lulled by the pleasant morning sunlight and the smell of flowers, the gentle breeze. He barely hears the sound of Yuuya talking as he lies down under the tree to take a short nap, watches drowsily as Yuuya tends to his garden. _Flowers of the dead_.

Yuuya glances at him and grins, his hand stroking the flower petals gently. _Maybe one day I’ll plant them on your grave, dear_.

 

* * *

 

He escapes from the crime scene, citing a sudden emergency. Reiji finds him trying to start his car, hands shaking. “What’s wrong?” Reiji asks, which would be funny, if he’s not currently in the middle of a freak out, because Reiji has never blatantly ask him if he is okay, if something is wrong.

“Emergency,” he supplies tersely, and what the hell is wrong with him, he can just tell his boss that he’s figured out the identity of their killer right now, why is he –

Any chance for him to tell the man about his newfound information is ruined when the car engine finally starts, and he knows he _has to go_. “I’ll tell you later,” he adds, if only to make Reiji leave.

Reiji looks at him for a long time, eyebrows scrunching in rare concern. Shun has an impressive poker face, but he still feels like Reiji is seeing exactly what he’s trying to hide, tries his best not to squirm under the man’s cool gaze. “Very well,” his superior finally relents, and returns back to the crime scene at hand.

Shun drives away, as fast as he can, ignoring the speed limit. He has only one destination in mind.

Yuuya doesn’t look too alarmed when Shun enters his home, face pale, gun in hand. After all, he’s the one who gives Shun the keys to his house. 

“Shun, what – “ He stops when Shun lifts the gun, hands shaking, and points it towards his chest.

Shun looks at him, really looks, at this man who has been playing him for a fool this entire time. “I know,” he simply says. “You told me.”

He _knows_.

Is this how Yuuto feels, when he figures it out? How did he find Yuuya, anyway? Shun realises, again, that he’s never asked Yuuya about his meeting with Yuuto, so long ago. “Tell me,” he starts, “Did you kill him because he figured out the truth about you?” No need to explain who the _he_ is, they both know there’s only one person Shun could be referring to.

(He tells Yuuya about Yuuto, once, when the rage and grief and regret feels too much for him, squeezing the air out of his lungs, almost drowning him in its intensity. Yuuya kisses him and holds him close, telling him not to blame himself, telling him it’s not his fault.)

“This is all just a game for you, isn’t it?” He asks, voice choking, trembling hands still aiming a gun at Yuuya’s chest. And while he knows, knows that shooting Yuuya and turning himself in would be the right thing to do, a part of him is screaming. Telling him to _just drop the gun and you can walk away with him, don’t do this, are you really going to shoot Yuuya, are you willing to kill your_ –

He jerks so violently at the thought that the gun almost fall from his hands. He clutches it more tightly in his grip, chastising himself for losing focus. If Yuuya notices, he doesn’t say a word.

Yuuya, who’s kind to him. Yuuya, who always greets him with a smile. Yuuya, who somehow manages to sneak his way into Shun’s heart and fill the loneliness inside.

Yuuya, who is the Asphodel Killer.

“I didn’t kill Yuuto, this is the truth,” Yuuya states, voice firm, eyes seeking Shun’s.

“Liar,” Shun hissed, moving his arms so that the gun is now pointing at Yuuya’s head, instead of his chest. “You think I’ll believe you? I thought you’re a killer, at first, and then I thought I was mistaken, but you, you’re really – “

Yuuya’s face is a blank canvas. Shun wants to paint it with blood. “I’m really what, Shun?” He tilts his head, curious but not angry at this accusation. And it’s so unfair, how can he sound so _kind_ , as if _Shun_ is the one who’s being irrational?

“You’re really him,” he whispers, ignores the way it almost sounds _awed_ , relief at finally finding the elusive killer who’s able to avoid the failings of other killers, who succeeds in dodging all those attempts to track him down. Relief in knowing that he was _right_.“You’re really the one behind those murders. The one we’ve been chasing. The one i’m trying to catch.”

Yuuya’s face remains blank for a few more seconds – it’s so weird, Shun wants to see his cheerful face again – before he _smiles_ , all teeth and blood and darkness. “Yes.” he admits softly. “You’ve caught me.”

And then, with a movement so fast it feels like he somehow blinks out of existence for a heartbeat, Yuuya is in front of him, twisting Shun’s arm and forcing him to drop his weapon in pain. He struggles, but a sharp jab to the back of his neck turns his vision black.

“In fact,” he hears Yuuya’s voice from somewhere far away, feels gentle fingers caressing his cheek as he succumbs to the darkness. “You’ve caught me a long time ago.”


	3. asphodel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #cw: this chapter contains brief mentions of a child molester and suicide of a minor (unrelated to the main characters)

Shun awakes to a splitting headache, not unlike how he did, that first day waking up at Yuuya’s house with a hangover, a long time ago.

A warm hand brushes against his hair. “Don’t move,” Yuuya instructs. “I’m sorry I had to knock you out, but you were going to shoot me right there, and there’s still so many things you need to listen to.”

Shun doesn’t want to listen to Yuuya’s words, doesn’t want to hear a killer’s speech. He tries to move away from the touch, to step back, only to find himself stuck in place.

He opens his eyes.

Finds himself sitting on a heavy wooden chair in Yuuya’s living room, hands tied to the chair behind his back. Sees Yuuya gazing at him – with the same look of concern he had the first time Shun woke up in his house. Everything about him looks the same, except for the pair of leather gloves now covering his hands – to hide fingerprints, of course – and a sharp knife lying innocuously on his coffee table.

Shun puts an effort not to panic at the setting, but he does anyway. “Why?” he croaks, pleading and despairing.

So many meanings to that question. So many different answers.

_Why choose me? Why must it be you? Why do you kill all those people?_

Yuuya seems to think Shun’s asking about the last part, because he says, utterly unrepentant, “No reason.”

“Well, you could say it’s about aesthetics, I guess,” Yuuya continues. “Some enjoy the smell of freshly-cut grass, or the sound of rainy days. Others, more peculiar, even downright bizarre. Like the sight of potatoes filling a hallway.” He makes a weirded-out face at those words, and Shun almost, _almost_ laughs, because that’s so like Yuuya. “Me, I like murder. The feeling when you see a life leaving a body, the look of blood on skin. It's strangely appealing, you see.”

Shun doesn't want to hear about this anymore. “What about Yuuto, then?” he scorns. “Was he one of your _aesthetics_ , too?” And, to his surprise, Yuuya blanches.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t kill Yuuto,” Yuuya announces, and there it is again. The discord in his voice when he mentions Yuuto’s name. As if he was someone precious, someone close to Yuuya’s heart.

“Didn’t you?” Shun asks, and tries not to let the bite in his voice shows in the question. Judging from Yuuya’s expression, he’s not very successful.

“Would you believe me if I said it was a complete accident?” Yuuya frowns, face serious. “Speeding driver, most probably drunk. I wasn’t looking, but he saw the car, and he pushed me aside.” He laughs, then, but it sounds wrong – too harsh, a painful sound coming out of his throat.

“He saved my life. He suspects, no, I _know_ he knows. About me, about who I am – but he still saved my life.” The words are gushing out of his mouth now, unstoppable. “He was,” Yuuya hesitates, thinking about Shun’s dead best friend with a genuinely fond look on his face. “He was - very kind. I was surprised. He didn’t look like he’d be a kind person, the first time I saw him.”

Shun thinks about Yuuto, with his rugged, almost-tattered clothes, the way he favours dark colours, the collar around his neck, the constant frown on his face. Remembers the way his face softens when he smiles, his kind voice and kinder heart.

“He was the first one,” Yuuya whispers, almost painfully. “Other than my best friends. The first one I didn’t want to hurt. That I want to keep close. That I...“ He hesitates, looks at Shun.

_Love_. His mind finishes the sentence.

“But i _couldn’t_ ,” Yuuya breathes, voice bitter. “I couldn’t tell anyone about the incident. Because the police would investigate me thoroughly, about who I am and why he was spending time with me that night. So I did the best thing I could. Part of him – the most important part, I believe – I returned to his family and friends.” He nods at Shun. “The rest of him, I get to keep. That way, a part of him remains with me.”

There’s something about those words, other than their rawness, that’s pinging against Shun’s brain, makes him realise he’s on the verge of some revelation. He pushes it aside for the moment, because there’s a more pressing question he needs to ask Yuuya. 

“Am I his replacement, then?” Shun demands, because it’s important. He needs to know if their entire relationship is a fake – Yuuya latching on to the person closest to the one he lost. If he’s only pretending, this entire time.

Yuuya shakes his head rapidly, and Shun feels something – relief, delight – settling inside his heart.

“No,” he insists. “It’s not like that at all. My feeling for you and him are the same, but you’re both different people. I’m many things, but I won’t insult you by using you like that. I have to admit, the first time I saw you, I wanted to get close to you because you’re important to him, but I know you’re not him. I fell for you because of _you_.”

There is a long silence as Shun considers Yuuya’s words. Then, “What did you do to the drunk driver?” Another question, because Shun needs to know. Because there’s no way Yuuya would’ve leave the man alive after that.

Yuuya demeanour changes at the question. He grins, sharp and deadly. “Oh, I killed him, of course. Tracked him down and stabbed him right _here_ ,” He raises a finger and points it directly at his heart. “Twice. Made it look like a robbery gone wrong.”

“Didn’t eat him, though,” Yuuya muses, dropping his hand and letting them lay flat on his lap, and Shun finally _understands_. Why the killer has been taking his victim’s internal organs. Rewinds their entire conversation inside his mind – Yuuya telling him _the heart, his most important part_ and _a part of him remains with me_.

Shun doesn’t know how to deal with _this_ information. So, similar to most things he can’t deal with, he turns his face blank, hides his emotions, lets the issue slide. (He can’t let this slide, because Yuuya is a – ) Before he can reply with _that would destroy the pretense of a robbery_ , Yuuya continues, “He doesn’t deserve even that.”

 

* * *

 

“What happens now?” Shun asks, dreading the response but not letting any emotion run across his face. He thinks he already knows the answer to his question. He’s currently being tied up in a serial killer’s – the Asphodel Killer, the one who eats his victim's heart – house, and the killer just confesses to all his crimes. There’s only one way this can end. He just hopes Ruri would be able to move on from his death, just like she eventually did with Yuuto’s.

Yuuya blinks, all bright eyes and kind smile – does that smile belong to him, or did Yuuto inspire him to take on a much kinder persona, Shun wonders – and asks him nonchalantly, “What do _you_ think should happen now?”

Shun scowls, because he knows the answer to _that_ question, at the very least. “You’ll kill me, of course.”

To his disbelief, Yuuya shakes his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You can have anything you want, Shun. All you need to do is ask me.”

“Anything,” Yuuya leans closer to him, just like he did during their first – but not really – meeting at the nightclub. He smells different now, no sandalwood cologne covering his natural scent. He smells of earth, of dried flowers, and beneath it all, a subtle hint of blood. It feels heady, intoxicating. Yuuya whispers, fingers crawling spider-like gently up his chest, “Anything at all, Shun. The question is, what do _you_ want?”

Shun knows what he wants, tells Yuuya this with his eyes. Chases Yuuya’s lips when Yuuya kisses him, slow and sweet at first but turning increasingly fierce after a few moments. Checks that the rope tying his hands is loose enough – he manages to loosen the bindings while Yuuya was talking, while Shun distracts him with questions and pleas and kisses – and _lunges_.

They both fell to the floor with a resounding _crash_. Shun scrambles for the knife, fallen from the coffee table when Yuuya’s leg accidentally slams against it during the collision.

Yuuya grabs his legs before he can reach the knife, drags him away from it. In a panic, Shun twists his body so that he’s facing Yuuya, curls his hand into a fist and swings it, hard, towards Yuuya. It hits him right on his left cheek and he staggers, eyes brimming with shock. Shun succeeds in freeing himself from Yuuya’s grip and scurries away, eyes never leaving Yuuya’s face, sharp like a hawk. Panting, he observes the other man.

A bruise is forming from where Shun’s fist collides with his face. Blood, on the corner of his lips. Shun allows the sense of satisfaction to wash over him at seeing this person injured, at finally managing to put a dent on this killer’s untouchable self, before Yuuya’s eyes glint dangerously, turning deadly.

The Asphodel Killer scrutinizes him – a predator looking for weakness, ready to pounce.

Two can play that game.

Shun snarls, standing his ground. Yuuya, of all things, looks pleased at this.

Yuuya lunges at him, hands outstretched, reaching for Shun’s neck. Shun ducks, swinging an elbow upwards, hitting Yuuya on the nose with a satisfying _crack_. Fails to notice Yuuya’s knee jerking up until it lands a hit on his gut. Shun wheezes at the sudden burst of pain, and backs away, only for Yuuya to grab the collar of his jacket and throw him to the floor.

Yuuya grabs his head and slams it once, twice, into the wooden floor, until Shun’s head is throbbing and he feels blood flowing from his forehead. Struggles to free himself, but Yuuya is straddling his waist to prevent him from escaping. He’s surprisingly heavy, smaller body hiding pure muscle mass, and while Shun is taller and knows how to fight, he’s also aware that he’s a stick, his arms thin and lacking.

Shun fumbles with the space around his head, trying to find a suitable weapon to defend himself with. Grasps something that feels small and solid, twists his head to check the item.

It’s the fallen knife.

He grabs it, sees Yuuya’s eyes widen once more – in surprise or horror, he can’t tell. Throws his entire weight at Yuuya, dislodging him, turning their position upside down. He’s the one on top of Yuuya right now, settling the knife against Yuuya’s neck. Pauses, pants for air, takes a moment to observe his lover (his killer).

The blade sharp against Yuuya’s neck, a trickle of blood flowing from where the knife cuts into his skin.

_Blood on skin_ , Yuuya’s voice flows in his mind. _Strangely appealing._

He pulls the knife back, once, and strikes.

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks passes in a massive blur for Shun.

(He closes his eyes and sees a cold, dead body and his own hands, covered in blood.)

Co-workers wanting to congratulate him for finally catching the Asphodel Killer. Superiors wanting to schedule him for another interview – or a psychiatric evaluation, who knows – to check the facts of his story. Reporters and journalists waiting in front of the NPA building for him to come out so they can bombard him with questions. He gets thank-you letters from the victim's’ friends and family members, happy that the killer is finally brought to justice. He gets hate mails from a bunch of murder groupies, who believes that the killer is _cleansing the world from sin and_ – Shun crumples the letter into a small ball and throws it into his dustbin.

He ignores the reporters and journalists who immediately surround him the moment he steps outside after work, pushes his way past them and their neverending questions with a blank expression on his face. Its not until one of the reporters, a willowy man with the slightest hint of an American accent asks him, “There are a few rumours concerning your connection with the Asphodel Killer. For instance, Is it true that you and the killer used to be in a romantic relationship?” that Shun stops, rooted to the spot.

The rest of the group descends on him like sharks detecting blood, clamouring for his reply. Another person, with the bushiest pair of eyebrows Shun has ever seen and having no tact whatsoever, adds, “How does it feel to have to kill your lover to defend yourself?”

Before he can open his mouth to respond, a hand grabs his shoulder.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ruri glares at his side, staring right into each and every one of them. “My brother,” she continues, voice pleasant except for the murderous (ha!) look in her eyes, “Has been through a dreadful ordeal, and we would appreciate it very much if everyone would respect our need for privacy.” Her eyes meets the reporter with the bushy eyebrows, and the temperature around her drops a few degrees lower. Some of the journalists standing close to her steps back.

“We understand,” bushy eyebrows replies, and it sounds so very fake. Shun’s jaw twitches, and Ruri’s hand tightens around his shoulder – he’s going to have to deal with this guy again soon, isn’t he. Without another word, Ruri drags him away from the crowd into her car, where she has been waiting for him.

“Reporters,” Ruri scowls, face tight with tension as she starts the car and drives away. “Vultures, all of them.”

Shun doesn’t respond to her. Watches the lights moving from the cars that passes through them on the road with a pensive look on his face. Ruri, possibly sensing his mood, decides to change the topic.

“So,” she asks pointedly, and Shun smiles. His little sister can be so sweet – if a bit too obvious about it – sometimes. “Do you want me to drop you off at your boyfriend’s?”

The smile on his face grows a bit wider. “That would be great, Ruri. Thanks.”

He waves goodbye to Ruri when she drops him off the corner nearest to the man’s house. She pouts, complaining about how at this rate she’ll never get to meet the special person in her brother’s life. He tries to soothe her by promising that she’ll be able to _meet him soon, I promise, Ruri_. She accepts this promise without much hassle, although Shun can already tell that she’s planning on a way to find out who his mysterious (to her) new beau is, sooner or later.

Shun steps up to the porch and rings the doorbell. The door opens.

Sakaki Yuuya greets him, eyes bright and full with excitement at seeing Shun. “So, how’s the investigation into the Asphodel Killer going?” He grins.

Shun wants to punch him, wants to kiss him. He does neither. “Congratulations,” he says, doesn’t dare to look into Yuuya’s eyes. Sometimes, he still wants to run away, to step inside his (new) superior’s office and confesses his part in Yuuya’s crimes, to kill him. ”Everyone believes that my superior cracked and just starts murdering people for fun. Your plan worked perfectly.”

Yuuya’s smile is so brilliant and blinding, Shun feels choked by it. When he drags Shun down into a kiss, his mouth tastes like _triumph_.

 

* * *

 

Stop. Rewind.

Let’s start again, shall we?

 

* * *

 

The knife lands pointedly beside Yuuya’s head, causing them both to freeze in their actions.

Shun’s hands are trembling even worse than before. Yuuya looks up at him, face devoid of all emotions. “Do you want to kill me, Shun?” His voice, however, remains kind. “Is that what you want, after all?”

He does, for Yuuto – _but that’s not Yuuya’s fault_ , his mind whispers – and for all the other victims of this killer. _But didn’t you consider it before_ , his mind continues, traitorous. _How some of those people deserve to die? Remember the cactus flower man? You’ve seen his criminal records – remember his last victim? She was fourteen. She killed herself not long after._

Shakes his head to snap himself out of these worrying thoughts. It’s not his place to judge those people.

He wants, needs to stop Yuuya. Stop this killer who’s been terrorising their city and murdering people. This killer who’s been eating his victim’s heart.

And yet -

Remembers painkillers and coffee, a phone number written on a generic piece of paper. Remembers gentle hands and soft kisses, a kind smile greeting him under the heavy rain. Remembers the garden, the scent of flowers – remembers how he slept, content, under Yuuya’s (a killer’s) warm gaze.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, admitting a deep secret.

Yuuya brushes away a strand of falling hair from Shun’s forehead. “Then,” he smiles a murderer’s cold smile, “Will you let me stay?”

 

* * *

 

It’s so, so easy to make it look like Akaba Reiji has leaped across the protective railing of the bridge and jumped down to his death into the cold, harsh ocean below.

A bloody handprint and some smudged ones confirmed to be Reiji’s – Yuuya chopping off Reiji’s hands and running it over the metal bars – that shows him scrambling over the railing. Blood on the pavement – Yuuya dripping Reiji’s blood in a precise pattern, imitating the spray from a gunshot wound – that shows Reiji being injured by a shot from Shun’s gun. Signs of struggle on Shun’s body – Yuuya _placing his hands on top of Reiji’s severed one_ and moving the fingers so that it clutches Shun’s arms and neck – that will show up in a fingerprint analysis, if anyone thinks to do that at all.

The gunpowder residue on Shun’s hand is just Yuuya cradling his hands gently, guiding him into pulling the trigger, firing away into the night sky. Its almost three in the morning and they’re standing in the middle of an empty bridge, no one would be present to notice the sound, Yuuya assures him. He’s moving cautiously around Shun, as if a single wrong move will cause Shun to decide that he doesn’t want to keep Yuuya after all – that he will return to his senses – and scramble for the gun still tucked underneath his jacket.

The bruises from their earlier fight on Shun’s face gives a nice finishing touch to the apparent crime scene.

 

* * *

 

It’s even easier for him (them) to murder his (their) scapegoat.

A single visit to his home, where he lives alone in a quiet neighbourhood, and of course he invites Shun in, there’s no reason for him to be suspicious of _Kurosaki Shun_ , right?

A single blow to the back of his head knocks him unconscious. He doesn’t even wake up when Yuuya – who’s hiding patiently in Shun’s car – walks in and starts tying him up. Carries him carefully to the car and hides him inside the trunk. Shun locks the door to Reiji’s house, and together they drive away, slipping quietly into the night.

Amongst the _why did you do that_ and _why didn’t you tell Reiji about this, why did you knock him out_ and _why are you helping the Asphodel Killer_ screaming inside his brain, Shun’s almost impressed. The entire deed is done in less that five minutes.

(He doesn’t know _why_. All he knows is that he can’t, _won’t_ allow Yuuya to leave him. Because that will happen. If Yuuya gets caught, he’d have to leave Shun, and Shun will be alone again. Just like he was, after Yuuto.

He refuses to be _alone_ again.)

When they reach an empty field in the middle of nowhere, Yuuya tells him to stop the car. Takes Reiji, who’s still unconscious, out into the open field. He tilts his head, staring at Shun’s superior for a long time, obviously thinking about something.

“Shun,” Yuuya calls, “Come here.” He comes.

Yuuya hands him a knife - blade sharp, reflecting the weak moonlight. He keeps silent, watching Shun all the while, ignoring the man tied up in front of him.

Shun takes it. Yuuya smiles.

 

* * *

 

Shun blinks, and realises that he’s covered in blood, still clutching the knife Yuuya’s given him.

“Thrilling, isn’t it?” Yuuya’s laugh rings in his ears, loud and sweet and shockingly _happy_ , and something inside Shun wants to protest violently at his words. No, it’s _not_ thrilling. They’re playing with _human lives_ , but then he remembers. Recalls the feeling when his knife slices through Akaba Reiji’s body, that sense of satisfaction at finally, _finally_ being able to deal with his frustrating, too-smart-for-his-own-good superior, the one who’s in charge of catching Yuuya, and he – stops. Freezes in place.

Remembers himself pulling the knife in a vertical line across the man’s body, enlarging the wound. Remembers the blood, red and flowing from the large gap in Reiji’s abdomen, the man’s weak attempts to struggle as his life rapidly withers away. Remembers Yuuya’s serene smile, horrifying as it is, when he takes out another knife hidden inside his jacket, and starts pulling organs out of Reiji’s corpse and cutting them away, separating the organs from the corpse, hollowing him out.

They don’t need to do this, because no one will find Akaba Reiji’s corpse anyway, but Yuuya insists on doing his ritual. “A tradition,” he mentions cheekily.

Liver, kidneys, lungs, heart – cut, cut, cut, cut. Yuuya is meticulous in his endeavour and – just like Shun suspects – exceedingly careful in handling the organs. His eyes focused, his cuts precise. He looks lovely, bending over a corpse under the pale moonlight. His hands soaking with blood, reaching into his (Shun’s) victim’s chest cavity. He looks monstrous. Beautiful.

Yuuya must notice Shun’s staring, because he pauses and looks up from his work. Searches Shun’s face – whose heart is beating furiously with a mixture of horror and thrill – and something in his gaze must’ve given Yuuya the answer he’s looking for, because he raises a bloodied hand to his own face. Eyes turning dark and heavy, puts his fingers to his lips.

And _licks_ them, bloodied and all.

The sight sends Shun’s heart into overdrive.

“Yes,” Shun states, moving closer to the corpse (to Yuuya). Focuses on the dead man’s heart, a dark, deep red organ still clutched in Yuuya’s other hand. He wonders how it would taste. “It really is thrilling, Yuuya.”

And _cuts_.

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me team sparrow for i have sinned


End file.
